She Fell for Him To Fall
by waffledude999
Summary: A harness. A harness is all it took for a whole life to be deystroyed, everything and everyone changed. Not much is clear to an anneisiac blonde, but nothing at all make sense to those who cared. A human soul depends on the focus and presicion of the trained. A harness is what caused this. A harness and a shadow with power.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_"And the winner of Star-Studded is . . . Free Spirits!" The four young, beautiful girls screamed as they received the news, shock and happiness grew ever more clear in their eyes, all glinting and sparkling under the bright spotlight. The smallest one, her curled, glistening blonde hair bounced around her shoulders as she collapsed to the floor, and broke down in tears. An equally tearful brunette helped her up and the four girls all enveloped each other in a supportive hug._

1 year later

The three girls huddled together, softly giggling, whispering and plotting together. They were hovering over a sleeping blonde haired girl curled up onto a small, white leather armchair, her eyes clamped shut, her crimson lips curved into a peaceful smile. A red blanket kept her toasty, as she held the corner of it in her fist, and her tiny toes peeked out of the edges. In all, she looked like she was in heaven.  
A pretty blonde girl clad in a pink floral short-sleeved shirt, denim shorts and a pair of pink sandals, had started to tickle the blonde haired angel with a small feather. She scrunched her face up in irritation, and hit away the feather with her hand an she groggily muttered the words 'No, Gargamel, stop, I'm ticklish!', causing the group of girls to burst out laughing. They held onto each other, biting their lips as an attempt at containing their laughter, snorts and chuckles echoed around the large, cosy, white hotel room.  
Suddenly, the slumbering girl began to stir, her eyes fluttering open. The three girls scampered out the room as quickly as they could, hiding behind a marble white pillar, watching the girl wake with scrutinizing concentration.  
The girl stretched her arms out, and yawned. She shook the 'sleepy dust' from her eyes with her hands, only to realize they were smothered in a vile black sticky substance. She squealed in disgust, and began to gag. Then, a surge of horror swept over her face. With her goo-free hand, she carefully touched her left eye, to unfortunately feel the black gunk on and around her eye. She then began to grow angry, the smoke threatening to pour from her ears like in some sort of Looney Tunes cartoon. "Grace!" she screamed, her voice raised as high as it possibly could go. "Kelsey! Julie!"  
The three bashful girls revealed themselves from behind the pillar, and skulked over to the furious, little Southener. The girls stumbled into a muddled up line in front of her, and each looked up at their victim.  
The brunette girl hung her head with shame, shuffling about on her feet. Despite their comrades' guilt in pulling this sick joke, the two other girls were trying desperately to stifle their laughs, snorting as they bit their tongue. Their happiness at the triumph at the success of their prank was evident in their eyes.  
The blonde haired Southerner looked quite a picture with shining and messy golden hair, smudges of a coal-coloured, mysterious goo on her eye and hand, and to top of this rather abnormal sight, she was dressed in a baby blue onesie, the name 'Kim' printed on the hood, and a bow-tie adorned the upper right side of it.  
"I'm sorry Kim!" whimpered the brunette girl, as she pouted. A dark-eyed girl, wearing a hot pink crop top and a pair of patterned leggins, muttered the words "Goodie-two shoes", which caused the girl to glare at her. "It was Kelsey's idea." The brunette grinned evilly at the girl, Kelsey, as she pinned the blame on her. Kelsey just shook her head, and squinted her eyes, revenge clearly on her mind.  
"Well, Grace was the one who woke you up!" the girl with glasses cried, disrupting the stand-off between Grace and Kelsey. Grace gasped, and began to stammer. "Only because Julie told me to, Kim!" she blurted out, apologising once more. "Oh, thanks Grace!" the girl, Julie sighed sarcastically. The three carried on arguing with each other, pinning the blame on who ever drops them into it.  
"Girls!" cried Kim, trying to gain her band-mates attention. They all whipped their heads round at her, and fell silent. "I don't care who did it!" Kelsey and Julie muttered "Oh", and walked off, abandoning Kim and Grace. Kim watched their retreating figures, and shook her head, sighing. "Grace, could you do me a huge favour and get me the towel?" asked the Southerner, tilting her head. The brunette smiled at her and headed toward the bathroom. Kim turned to face the mirror, and prodded her eye. The black gooey substance was still on her hand, and the brown-eyed eighteen year old still had no idea what it was. She conscientiously looked at her finger, where a tiny blob of the goo was perched, and stuck her tongue out. She moved her finger; very slowly and carefully, towards her pink tongue, until it made contact. And when it did, the following events were disastrous.  
First, Kim curved her face into an expression of disgust, then she started to choke and gag, trying to rid herself of the foul-tasting black sauce. Then, she doubled over and began to throw up, a pale, chunky yet creamy, liquid spilled onto the charcoal carpet. Grace appeared at the doorway; her face fell and sympathized when she spotted her best friend on the floor, surrounded by a pool of regurgitated ready meals. She rushed to help her up, and rubbed her back comfortingly.  
And, vibrating of the cream walls, the expensive-looking chandelier, the glass statue of some power-hungry ego-maniac, and other trinkets, was the maniacal and notorious laughs of two delighted, little pranksters.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The black limo pulled up outside the stony building, the crisp snow crunched under the wheel like glass, and the doors slammed. The two pairs of heels clicked along the cobbled pavement, striding ahead of the pair of girls wearing onesies, not giving a second thought to the people who stopped and stared. A brown eyed girl and a pale-looking blonde haired girl, Kim Crawford and Grace Rodriguez, were arm-in-arm, as Grace supported her good friend, Kim, inside.  
The other two, Julie Nelson and Kelsey Vargas, were miles ahead of the pair, as they pushed the doors to the grey building open. The sign Grace looked up at and smiled. It was the Staples Centre, a stage they were destined to perform on.

1 hour later

The black brush caressed Grace, as the thick layer of white blush was added to her cheeks, making her release a little, soft laugh. "Kristy, it tickles!" she whined, as the middle-aged stylist hovered over her. "Grace, you've got to have it if you want to look 'spooky'" teased Kelsey, as she emphasized the word 'spooky', with a little wiggle of her fingers. Grace just shrugged her off, not even acknowledging her. The dark skinned girl, already the creepy, haunting make-up painted on her face, huffed. "Are you still mad at me for the joke we played on Kim?" she inquired as she collapsed into a swirly chair beside Grace. The deliberate silence that followed signalled that she was. "Well, how was I supposed to know that she was allergic to Marmite?" The disgusted expression on her friend's face stated "Then you shouldn't have done it then!". Kelsey shook her head with exasperation, and stormed off to the other side of the room.  
All of a sudden, the exhausted cry of a Southerner echoed around the dressing room, declared the arrival of Kim Crawford. Grace launched herself off the chair, and helped the staggering, sick girl into the room. Luckily, her pale and delicate face was covered by the eerie face-paint, which resembled that of a creepy doll. She was dressed in a little black dress, a slight showing of cleavage peeking out of the top, and simple black high heels, which made walking a whole lot harder.  
"Kim are you sure you can perform?" asked a stage manager, who ran in, sweaty and clad in black. "Yes, I can sing, I'm fine!" replied the blonde girl, her desperation to rid herself of these concerned people who think they know better. Yet the ironic thing is that they do.  
"Kim, sweetie, you can hardly walk straight" said Grace, softly. Kim just looked at her concerned, brunette friend, with a look of humour. "Good thing we're on harnesses then!" She then waddled over to the sofa they had installed in the corner.  
Suddenly, a black-haired woman, around twenty-three, twenty four, stormed into the room, the distressed expression on her face hinted at her knowledge of the illness spreading through Free Spirits. "Where is she?" she burst out, staring at Grace and Kelsey with a demanding look. They simply pointed to the curled up figure huddled up on the sofa, trying desperately to hide herself with a pillow. When she realised that her feeble attempt at a disguise wasn't really working, she took a different approach. "What, I'm not Kim, I'm Julie!" she muttered. The three girls all cocked their heads, with looks of disbelief on their faces. The girl dropped the act, and she sighed. "Fine".  
"Kim, you can't possibly perform still?" the lady asked, setting herself next to the poor girl. "Course I am!" spluttered Kim, pounding her knees with her fists, in desperation. "I'm not dying or anything!" She then stood up, and staggered to the door, clutching her stomach and breathing deeply. "You girls seriously can't let her go on stage in that state?" inquired the woman, her green eyes sprinkled with worry, as she stood to her feet, interrogating the pair of girls. "Leigh-Anne, we're not going to let her anywhere near the crowd, don't worry" answered Grace, her eyes following Kim as she continued to stumble down the corridor, and into Julie.  
"Why is she like this anyway?" Leigh-Anne asked, as Julie walked into the room. "Ask them two" Grace pointed towards Julie and Kelsey, and started to pursue Kim, calling after her. Leigh-Anne stared, questionably, at the accused. They bashfully smiled, and began the long and complicated story. "Well . . . "

45 minutes later

"I cannot believe you're still going through with this" muttered Leigh-Anne, as the four girls had the harnesses clipped to them, preparing to step out (or fly) on the stage. "Well, I'm doing it!" replied Kim, her voice strained and sore. "You can hardly speak, babe" sighed Leigh-Anne, leaning against a pillar, her voice sympathetic and full of caring. "I can still sing, though" whimpered Kim, releasing an exasperated sigh, tired of all the people telling her what to do and how to do it.  
Suddenly, a stage director motioned for them to go through the curtain, with Julie singing lead vocals. Kim inhaled, and rubbed her throat soothingly, unaware of the figure looming about in the shadows.  
The harmonious tones bounced of the arena walls, the over-joyed crowd all on their feet, as the quadruplet of girls performed a star-studded performance. The brunette girl, Grace, smiled to herself, as she realised despite the sickly member, this was the best performance they'd ever done of Katy Perry's hit song, E.T. The girls were all in tune, they had all memorized their lines, and all were performing brilliantly. The sick blonde was especially good, despite the illness taking over her system.  
All of a sudden, Kim stopped singing. All girls turned to look at her, to see her hanging upside down, her harness slowly giving way. The crowd held their breath, the crew all rushed to uncover the reason why Kim was hanging by a thread, the band members all froze, their hands covering their mouths in anticipation and shock. Kim, however, just hung there, suspended in mid air. It was dropping a glass; once you know it has released your clutches, there was no retrieving it. No noise escaped her mouth, partly due to her sore throat, partly due to her fear. Someone shouted "Is someone going to help her!", yet the response that followed was an unexpected disaster.  
She fell.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Kim's PoV  
My eyes fluttered open, and a bright, blinding white light shone directly into them, making me flinch. Whilst clamping my eyes shut, I tried to move my body, wriggling about in the stiff bed sheets. My arms were fine, I could feel the crisp duvet, and I could rub my eyes at an attempt to adjust to the light. I could arch my back over, and I could feel everything . . . down below, which fortunately meant I could still use the bathroom, as I was fit to burst. The only problem was how was I to get there was. I couldn't sense anything in my legs or feet, let alone move them. They were all tight and numb, completely paralyzed, just laying there on the mattress, rigid and tense.  
I began to panic, when I realised I had no idea where I was. I sat up, which caused a searing pain in my thighs, and surprisingly, my head. I patted my head, cautiously, to find a bandage had been carefully wrapped around my hair, flattening the wheat-coloured hair. Why is there a bandage round my head? This is one very odd day. I have a bandage round my head and I wake up in a strange room that smells oddly of vinegar and a strong, powdery stench. I crinkled my nose in detest. I then attempted to sit up again, crying out in pain, as a jolt of what felt like lightning shot through my thighs again, and tingled my legs. My hand grabbed my thigh, and I rocked back and forth to ease out the fiercesome pain coursing through my veins. As tears threatened to spill, I decided to distract myself from the horrors I was currently experiencing, by observering my surroundings.  
A shelf of mysterious bottles, packets and other objects, objects which I had no clue of the contents or purposes. A strange, beeping noise ringed in my ears, the sound coming from behind me. I slowly turned my face, to see a heart monitor, the intricate lines coming up and down, quite fast and high actually. As I steadied my breathing, the lines slowed their pace, to a somewhat normal speed.  
Wait . . . if there's a heart monitor I must be in a . . . .hospital. I saw the silver pole beside my bed, the drip hanging down and leading onto a clip on my finger. The drip contained some clear fluid . . . water possibly.  
All of a sudden, I saw a sheet of paper clipped onto the end of my bed, the words too small for me to understand. I squinted my eyes, as a poor effort to read it, to no prevail. I swung my legs round (with the aid of my hands) so they hung over the edge of the bed. I then foolishly hopped off the bed, only to discover I couldn't stand, due to the numb legs. This time, when the agony striked, I couldn't resist the tears. They poured freely from my eyes, and dripped onto the cold, hard ground, already forming puddles of salty water. As I tried to stand up, by placing all my weight onto the little, metal desk beside me, I screamed. For some reason, I had not realized my arm was bandaged as well, hung expertedly in a sling around my neck, and applying pressure was _not_ a good idea at all. It seemed that the bandage was freshly wrapped on, and my right arm was stiff and tense, much like my legs, yet I could feel my arm, and it pained me as much as my pounding head. The eerie shriek sound attracted footsteps, which quickly approached me, writhing around on the floor in agony.  
The white coated men (and women) aided me up, and hoisted me back onto the bed. I winced as the men firmly grasped my legs to place them onto the rather uncomfortable bed. A younger, blond man in a white coat (I'm guessing they are doctors) grinned at me, and winked his deep blue eyes at me, flirtatiously. I smiled back, only to be polite, yet I was so very confused.  
"Miss Crawford, may I ask what you were doing out of bed?" inquired a bearded middle-aged man, his arms crossed, as a clipboard lay in his hands. "Well . . . I . . . um . . . I don't know" I stuttered. Suddenly a thought struck my mind, widening my eyes. "Is that my name, Miss Crawford?" The doctor looked at me strangely, his eyebrow raised with suspicion. "Are you saying you don't know you're own name?" His voice was worryingly full of shock and concern. I paused for a minute, pondering on the question. Too be frank, I didn't, and it scared me. In fact, I didn't know where I was. I didn't know why I was here. I didn't know where I was from, who my family is, who my friends are, or anything. The idea of my sudden memory loss worried me, deeply. I shook my head, my breathing raised to an unhealthy pace again. The beeping grew faster and louder, and the doctor told me to calm down, promising me he would find the source of my abrupt amnesic condition.  
All of a sudden, three girls ran in, their faces full of stimulated curiosity and expectation. They screamed in what I suspected was delight, and rushed over to me. "Kim!" they squealed. Tears escaped their eyes, and they all piled on top of me, obviously unaware of my current state. I hollowed in agony as they all embraced me, crushing my arm and head. They backed off, and checked me over. "What happened to her!" they cried, bewilderment and agitation swept over their faces like masks. They were clearly as much in the dark as me. "Since when did she have a bandage caked in blood on her head, and her arm in a sling!" a brunette with tear-stained cheeks bellowed, her hand covering her mouth midway through a muffled gasp. My mouth dropped; my head was bleeding. I tentatively dapped my head, and sure enough when I spied my fingers, they were decorated with sticky, warm velvet dyed blood. I felt as if I would faint again, my head swimming with unanswered questions and empty of all memories. "Oh god" I breathed, feeling my stomach flip.  
"Ah, that" the doctor sighed, placing his hand on his chin and stroking his chocolate coloured matt of wispy hair. "Well, when she fell, she smashed her head on the ground, and cracked her skull. Her elbow is broken, in three places, and she has a broken ankle and dislocated knee" he explained, lingering on the knee, his concern on the subject a little understated. "What!" screamed the girls, shock and fear evident on their faces. My head began to spin, and I felt my latest meal; whatever that was, appear back into my throat.  
A fairly young blonde woman, her dark eyes brimming with fresh glistening tears, appeared at the doorway. "Oh my poor baby!" she screeched out, the water leaking from her blue eyes ran down freely.  
Never in my life have I been more confused or lost. Or have I? If I have, I can't remember at all.


End file.
